Murder at the Arlington: Chapter 23

A Sydney Lockhart Mystery

Sleeping on a cot was worse than sleeping on the ground. At least on the ground, my pillow wouldn’t keep falling down. About two o’clock I gave up and stared at the ceiling and listened to Ruth snore. I thought about my simple life back in Austin — my pets, my little apartment, tapping away at my typewriter, working on my current assignment. Would life ever be normal again? I thought about my crazy family in Texas, my wounded…